


Acute Myocardial Infarction

by missmichellebelle



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Injury, Doctor Levi, Doctor/Patient, Fluff, M/M, Medical Procedures, Photographer Eren, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5058895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren rides into Levi's life and the Urgent Care where he works on a cherry red bike. </p><p><i>Literally</i>. He wheels the muddy thing right into the waiting room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acute Myocardial Infarction

**Author's Note:**

> here it is! my contribution to the [snkartists](http://snkartists.tumblr.com) big bang challenge! the accompanying art is being done by [easterlily16](http://easterlily16.tumblr.com), and I'll be sure to share the link here as soon as she finishes. I was just a little antsy to get this posted (the longer I sit on a work, the more I start picking at it, so!).
> 
> we decided on a medical AU together, and I have to apologize, because this is quite different from the idea we originally discussed, but I think it came together all right. I want to _stress_ how very little I know about the medical field and how it operates, Urgent Care Clinics included. I go to the doctor basically never, so it was a little... challenging for me to write, at times. so for those of you who are familiar with it, I'm sorry. for those of you who are at as much of a loss as myself, please don't take anything I write as medical fact. like. seriously.
> 
> that being said, I'm not quite done with these versions of Levi and Eren, and maybe once I stabilize piano verse, I'll revisit these dorks. <3

Levi’s barely finished washing his hands when one of the poor, hopeless med students that ended up under his tutelage pops around the corner.

“There’s a patient for you in Room 3, Dr. Ackerman,” she says, her voice sweet and slightly on edge, like she’s nervous to even be addressing him. He sighs.

“Already?”

She jumps a bit at the response, clutching a binder tightly to her chest. As Levi looks at her, he puts a name to the face. Krista, he’s pretty sure.

“U-um, yes.” She opens the binder, immediately hiding her face in it as if it’s some sort of shield. “Male, 19, had some kind of fall that—”

Levi waves his hand. “Petra can’t take care of it?”

“Dr. Ral? No, she left for the night.” Krista’s eyes are large over the edge of the binder as Levi sighs again, folding up the cuffs of his lab coat before striding past her. She holds out a clipboard as he passes, and he takes it.

Of course Petra is gone for the night, not that he can really fault her. The overnight shift doesn’t exactly agree with her pregnancy, after all. If Levi wasn’t still hard up for a replacement, he’d probably force her into an early maternity leave. It makes him anxious, watching her totter around the Urgent Care like a water balloon ready to pop.

The short walk to Room 3 falls away in his quick strides, and Levi doesn’t even glance at the horrendously filled out paperwork until he’s through the door. And people give doctors a hard time for their handwriting.

“Eren Jaeger?” He asks the teenager sitting on the examination table, who is staring at him with curious eyes. He’s hardly nodded when Levi’s eyes fall on his right leg, already cleaned and bandaged and waiting for him. Levi looks down at the clipboard. “I’m Dr. Ackerman.” He squints at the handwriting, and then glances over at his patient. “It says here that you fell.”

“I—yeah.” Jaeger’s eyebrows furrow, and Levi’s mouth thins into a line.

“From what?”

The question seems to surprise him, and he looks suddenly nervous.

“W-what do you mean? I just tripped.” He laughs, and then winces. Even he could tell how forced and fake it sounded.

“Tripped and tore a giant gash in your leg?” Levi asks dryly, looking over Krista’s neatly written notes. “Looks like you’ll be needing stitches today.” It comes out on a sigh. Starting his shift with stitches is never a good sign. “No allergies to any medications, is that correct?” Levi glances at the clipboard one more time before he hangs it from the hook on the back of the door.

“Uh, yeah, hey.”

Levi looks over, impassively.

“Where’s Dr. Ral?”

Levi pulls open a drawer and pulls out some locally applied anesthesia, setting it on a tray.

“I’m afraid you just missed her.” Levi pulls a pair of gloves on, reveling in the sound of the latex snapping against his skin. “You get me instead.” He hooks a stool with his ankle and pulls it over, settling into it. “Regular patient of hers?” He pauses. “Any allergy to latex?”

“Yes.”

Levi looks up at him.

“No.”

His stare turns slightly impatient.

“Yes, a regular, no, no allergy,” Jaeger huffs, and Levi nods, unwinding the temporary bandage Krista had used to stem the bleeding. She cleaned the wound pretty well, and while Levi can’t see any remaining debris, he has no idea what he’s dealing with.

“So how did you really fall, Mr. Jaeger?” Levi asks, taking hold of his leg and moving it gently to the side so he can look into the cut more closely. “I don’t want to force you through the x-ray process if I don’t have to, but if there’s a chance there might be anything hazardous and too small to see in the wound, I don’t have a choice.”

“Hazardous like what?” Eren asks, teeth clenched, and Levi just gives him a blank stare. He mumbles something, crossing his arms and huffing his chest. For someone with a giant gash in their leg, he has a surprising amount of bravado.

“Excuse me?” Levi wishes it was ethical to press into a wound to make patients cooperate, but his mentors at the hospital had always told him that was _torture_ and _illegal_ and he could _have his medical license revoked_.

“I…” He rubs his arm self-consciously. “I fell out of a tree, all right?”

Levi doesn’t bat an eye.

“Onto what?” He asks, voice level, and Jaeger seems a little taken-aback by the lack of judgement.

“Mostly grass, but I hit a few branches on the way down,” Jaeger recalls, and then winces. “And a rock.”

_Christ_. The kid’s lucky he didn’t break anything.

“You sure nothing’s broken?” Levi wonders if he should insist on an x-ray, anyway.

“No. I mean, it hurts like a—” he glances at Levi, pauses, “—it hurts a lot, but I could put weight on it just fine.”

“I see.” This kid is incredibly sure of himself. “I’m going to apply the anesthesia now.” He does so, all the while closely examining the wound. He can’t _see_ anything, but he’ll clean it again, just to be sure. “For someone with a giant gash in your leg, you’re taking all of this rather well.”

“Uh, yeah.” The guy fidgets, and Levi shoots him a sharp look. “I’m no stranger to pain.”

Levi again has the urge to press against the gaping skin, but focuses on cleaning it instead. Besides, it doesn’t take long for the anesthesia to kick in. The kid wouldn’t even feel it.

As he works, he can’t help but notice the shiny scars that warp his knee, ankle and foot. Well, he had said he was a regular of Petra’s, but what the hell does this kid get up to?

There’s only so long Jaeger can stay still, apparently, and by the time he starts to twitch again, Levi decides the wound is clean to his liking. He announces that he’s going to start the stitches, but otherwise says nothing, focusing instead on neatly closing the wound. Small talk with patients or families has always been Levi’s failing point. He’s been told, time and time again, that it helps in some way he doesn’t particularly understand. All small talk does is make him feel aggravated and distracted.

“I was taking pictures,” Jaeger blurts out of nowhere, and Levi doesn’t even pause as he continues to glide the needle with steady hands.

“Is that a confession?” Levi asks easily. “Coming clean about your peeping Tom hobby?”

“W-what?! No!” Levi’s hand moves instinctively to grab Jaeger’s leg before he can move it. Does this idiot not understand that Levi is literally stitching him up? “I’m a photographer!”

“You _need_ to be still,” Levi hisses between his teeth, shooting him a glare, “Before I do more damage than you’ve done to yourself.” The indignation seeps slowly out of Jaeger’s shoulders, but he does as told, albeit with all the moody reluctance of someone who is still a teenager. Typical. When he’s sure there’s no danger of the kid flailing his injured leg, Levi resumes his work.

“There was an owl.”

_Jesus fucking christ_ , is there a polite way to tell this kid he doesn’t fucking care?

“I don’t care,” Levi replies simply. He never has been all that polite, anyway. And if Jaeger has a problem with it, then he can go to an actual ER instead of an Urgent Care.

“There was an owl _sleeping inside a tree_.”

When Levi glances up, Jaeger has bent nearly in half trying to catch his eyeline, and Levi can’t help but stare a little at how suddenly bright his eyes are. _Passion_ , Levi identifies easily. He remembers it from his own youth.

“I mean, do you ever actually see that? _In nature?_ I had to take a picture of it,” Jaeger continues, voice resolute.

“And just tore your leg open in the process.” Levi gives said leg a steady pat, away from the now neatly stitched wound. He changes his gloves, and then starts to dress the wound. “It looked nastier than it was, so come back in a week to get the stitches out. Try not to climb any trees in the meantime—you don’t need to go popping any threads.”

“Keep it clean, change the bandage regularly, watch for signs of infection, come back in if I have a fever, yatta yatta yatta. I know.” Jaeger sighs and leans back on his arms, and Levi raises an eyebrow. “What? I’m just saving you the trouble of telling me,” he murmurs, somewhat defensively, and Levi pushes back on his stool.

“Maybe next time you could not tear your leg open and save me the trouble of stitching it back up,” Levi counters, depositing his used gloves in the proper trash can.

“You’re a doctor. What do you do if you’re not stitching people up?” Jaeger takes his cue and gets off the examination table. For a second, it looks like he’s going to fucking jump off it, but thankfully he remembers his injured leg and thinks better of it. _Moron_.

“Plenty,” Levi responds in a clipped tone, scratching away at the clipboard. “I’m giving you a prescription for some antiseptic as a precaution. If you don’t feel you need it, don’t get it. Makes no difference to me.” Jaeger is much taller when he’s standing, and Levi can’t help but glare at him as he hands off the prescription. He watches it get shoved into a back pocket. “They’ll help you finish up your paperwork and schedule your follow-up appointment at the front desk.” Levi opens the door to head off to whatever thrilling adventure the Urgent Care has for him that night, but pauses at the last minute. “And I’m serious about not climbing any trees.”

“Even if there are owls in them?” Jaeger’s face splits into a grin, making him look all the boy that he is.

“Even if there are owls in them.” Levi gives him a withering look and then heads down the hallway for the nurses station.

“See you next week—”

Levi pauses and looks over his shoulder at where Jaeger is yelling at him, even though he hasn’t even gone that far yet. He’s staring at the prescription, face skewed up, and Levi scowls. His handwriting isn’t _that_ bad, especially compared to the hieroglyphics he had to decipher on Jaeger’s submission paperwork.

“—Dr. Levi Ackerman!” Jaeger finishes, and beams at him.

“With luck, you’ll be back with good ol’ Dr. Ral.” And Levi won’t have to deal with this fucking ball of energy that risks his life to take pictures of owls. Fucking idiot, really. Without waiting for another word, he turns the corner, his pace slightly brisker than normal but that’s only because the night is just getting started and there’s always something to do at the Urgent Care.

None of which is making weird ass small talk with a patient.

As if there is some sort of karmic retribution for how rude and curt he was with Eren Jaeger, Levi gets vomited on by a child within the following hour, and he tries to remember the reason he even became a fucking doctor to begin with.

_Oh right, to_ **_help_ ** _people. Ugh._

*

Levi hasn’t always worked the night shift. Once upon a time, he worked regular hours, but that was back before Petra went and did things like _get married_ and _start a family_. She has a husband she goes home to, and an unborn child she already has to be mindful of, and without discussion, Levi swapped his days with Petra’s nights and she was smart enough to mention it all of one time and otherwise just leave a tin of expensive tea on Levi’s desk.

He doesn’t mind it. It is, after all, the best and the worst shift. The best because traffic is lighter at 2am, but worst because the patients that do trickle in are usually colicy babies or lying bastards with foreign objects stuck in random orifices. It almost makes Levi perfect for the job—he’s strangely good at dealing with both types.

“Have you found my replacement yet?” Petra asks him one night as she’s hanging up her coat and letting her hair down, ready to call it a night and head home to her idiot of a husband. Not an idiot for marrying Petra of course, just an idiot in general.

Levi clicks his tongue against the top of his mouth in answer, and opts instead to look overly interested in the patient list Petra had handed off to him. Their Urgent Care, the one Levi started only a few years ago, is a small one, but their regular clientele list keeps growing. At this rate, Levi will need to start looking for more doctors, and not just a replacement for Petra while she’s on maternity leave.

“You know, you’re the one pushing for me to take my maternity leave—” she cuts off, huffing, and Levi looks up and curses under his breath to see that she’s reaching for something she dropped.

“Stop that,” Levi scolds her immediately, striding over to pick it up before she does something stupid like… Induce labor.

(Okay, he knows it doesn’t happen that way, he didn’t exactly sleep through those classes in med school. But at the end of the day, he’s an emergency doctor and general physician—at _most_ , an orthopedic surgeon—but he’s _no_ obstetrician or gynecologist.)

“Thanks.” She smiles at him, all sunny days and shining optimism, and Levi has no idea how he is ever going to replace her. “As I was saying, you really need to start taking this seriously, Levi. What about that contact of Moblit’s—the one you both went to med school with?”

Levi’s eyes widen slightly, and he shakes his head, following it up with a resounding, “ _No_ ,” as if he needs to be more clear. Petra frowns at him, hands settling on her hips, and pregnancy or not, Levi can see all the mother she is and one day will be in that stance alone.

“Levi—” she starts, when the door opens, and a freckled face peers in, shy and smiling. 

“Um, excuse me, Dr. Ral?” He shoots a glance at Levi with uncertainty, and seriously, what do these kids say about him behind his back that make them look at him that way? Not that he minds being feared, he just wonders what half-truth horror stories they’ve managed to concoct.

“Yes, Marco?” Petra’s face and voice turns immediately sweet, and Levi can’t help but roll his eyes. If only they knew how terrifying the misleadingly even-tempered Dr. Ral could be.

“There’s a patient for you in Room 3.” He’s a little more at ease in the light of Petra’s easy smile, and Levi tucks the patient information under his arm and does up the last button on his coat.

“Dr. Ral is headed home for the night. I’ll be taking over her patients, Mr. Bodt.” Levi waits to exchange the general patient info for the afternoon with that of Room 3, but Mr. Bodt hesitates, eyes shifting nervously to Petra again.

“The patient asked specifically for—”

“Then the patient should have come during Dr. Ral’s operating hours,” Levi cuts in, and Mr. Bodt nods nervously, quickly making the exchange Levi is offering and hurrying from the room. “Seriously,” Levi huffs under his breath, frowning as he glances at the paperwork. “It’s not that hard to understand.”

“You’re too hard on the interns,” Petra scolds, buttoning up her civilian coat and giving Levi a disapproving look. “Don’t you remember how stressful and terrifying it is? Come on, even _you_ had to have made mistakes.”

“No,” Levi responds dismissively, holding the door open for her. “I was never that incompetent.”

“Pretty sure I’ve heard differently,” Petra teases, and they pause in the hallway, Levi preparing for his patient and Petra with one step towards the door.

“Liar, whoever it was,” Levi scoffs, and she laughs softly in response. “Petra.” He dips his head in dismissal and farewell, and she gives him a tiny wave and smile.

“Goodnight, Levi.”

*

“You’re not Dr. Ral,” is the first thing Levi hears as he enters the room, and all he can think is, _Has it been a week already?_

“How astute.” Levi thought the patient form had been a little barren, but no wonder. There’s no submission paperwork when someone is there for a follow-up. He stares down at the paperwork again, flipping through it, but Jaeger’s previous submission is nowhere among it, and neither are Levi or Krista’s notes. He’s not sure who’s at fault, but he better chew out the entire team of interns running the nursing station tonight, just in case. “I see I can safely assume you’ve suffered no loss of vision since your last visit.”

“B-but I asked for Dr. Ral,” Jaeger continues to protest, and Levi is happy to see that his leg is still dressed—spectacularly, actually. If Levi couldn’t recognize his own handywork a mile away, he’d assume it was the same bandage from a week ago, but he can clearly tell it’s a fresh one.

“Unfortunately, when you insist on coming after normal hours, you tend to miss Dr. Ral, and you get me, the friendly overnight doctor,” Levi remarks snarkily, grabbing one of the brightly colored leaflets tucked into the door and turning it over so he can take notes. He pauses, pen against the top of the paper, and then looks at Jaeger. “Your first name?”

“It’s, uh, it’s Eren. E-R-E-N,” he spells, when he sees that Levi intends to write it down. “But really, it’s okay, I can just come back tomorrow, when Dr. Ral is here.”

“No loss of vision, but certainly having trouble with brain function,” Levi mutters, miming at writing it down, and Jaeger sputters.

“W-what the _fuck?!_ I have not, why—”

“Exactly. Why. Why would you come all the way here, take up valuable waiting and room space that could very well have been used for another patient, and then decide to reschedule?” Levi stares at him, gaze level. “Unless you find me too intimidating.”

“I don’t,” Jaeger insists.

“Because I know I don’t coddle as much as dear Dr. Ral, but if you’re that much of a child, might I recommend a pediatrician instead of an Urgent Care, Mr. Jaeger?”

“I’m not a child!”

“You’re certainly acting like one.” Levi’s teeth are grit and his voice is cold, and he’s locked in a staring contest with a hot-headed youth. It’s unprofessional, surely, and if this wasn’t Levi’s clinic, maybe he would care more. Finally, Jaeger looks away, a scowl on his face, and his shoulders wilting under the weight of Levi’s glare.

“Now, if you can manage to sit still for five minutes, I’ll get rid of these stitches and you can go bust yourself up chasing more owls,” Levi mutters, plopping the needed supplies onto a tray with a little more force than necessary. The silence doesn’t even surprise him until he’s snapping his gloves into place and he finds the kid staring at him. “What?” He asks, voice flat but tinged with annoyance.

“You remember that?” Jaeger asks, an uneasiness in his voice that Levi doesn’t understand.

“Luckily for you, I have a good memory, otherwise I might cut your leg open again trying to take your stitches out.” Is it weird for him to remember the owl thing? He remembers shit like that. It’s one of those things that should make him more personable, or likable, or something. Remembering names, birthdays, interesting facts about people. Maybe it would work, if Levi ever easily owned up to it.

He hadn’t meant it as something friendly. It wasn’t a fucking olive branch. He was _making fun of the kid_ , for fuck’s sake, but now he’s got that look on his face, like he’s completely misread Levi.

Which he has, but that’s not the point. Most people completely misread Levi. He kind of thrives on people getting the wrong impression of him. _I’m still an asshole, kid_ , he wants to say. _So just keep on thinking it_.

Jaeger is far more cooperative this time than he was his last visit, although Levi has to remind him a few times to relax his leg muscles. He clearly doesn’t know the difference between keeping still and tensing every muscle in his fucking body. The wound is beautifully taken care of, and Levi is certain the skin will be unmarred if Jaeger keeps treating it so well. If Jaeger is, in fact, the one treating it.

“If you’re lucky, there won’t be a scar,” is what Levi tells him, and is a little startled at the way Jaeger grins at him.

“Nah, there won’t be.” He sounds cocky about that fact. “With stitches that neat? I’d be surprised.”

“That familiar with stitches?” It’s meant as a jibe, but it must not come across strongly enough, because Jaeger takes it as… Levi’s not sure. An actual question?

“I’m a regular, remember.” Levi is not a dentist, but he can’t help but notice how white and straight Jaeger’s smile is when he keeps flashing it around like that. “We good?”

Levi pushes back on his stool, gesturing with his hand that Jaeger is free to go. This time, he does hop down from the table, and Levi frowns at him.

“Besides, stitches are kind of like signatures. Every doctor’s is different,” Jaeger continues to babble on, and Levi is getting ready to push him out the door so he can move on with the night when there’s a sudden, “Oh!” and Jaeger starts to shuffle through the backpack he has with him.

The next thing Levi knows, there’s a stiff manilla envelope being pushed into his face.

“What is this?” He asks, taking it before it whacks him in the nose. “If it’s a payment, that has to be done at the front desk or over the phone once you receive the bill through the mail,” he recites on autopilot, fingers pressing curiously against the package. What the fuck is this? “And, generally, with _money_.”

“I know that,” Jaeger mumbles, and when Levi glances at him, he looks weirdly sheepish. It reminds Levi of when they first met and the kid was too embarrassed to admit he’d fallen out of a tree. “It’s a photograph,” he explains, meeting Levi’s eyes, and Levi blinks at him.

“A photograph,” Levi reiterates, and Jaeger nods like it’s a question.

“I brought it for Dr. Ral, but, uh, you can have it. If you want it.” He shrugs, looking away again, and then starts to shuffle towards the door. “Follow-up paperwork at the front, right?”

“Yes,” Levi responds, a little off guard, and then Jaeger gives him a smile and scuttles out of the room at an alarming rate considering Levi thought he’d have to wedge him out with a shoehorn in order to avoid any more awkward small talk. He stares at the ajar door for a second, and then lifts the flap on the envelope seeing as Jaeger never bothered to seal it.

It is, indeed, a photograph. A photograph of an owl, it’s beak tucked under one wing, holed up in a tree and very clearly asleep. It looks more like an art piece than a picture, especially with how the photo has clearly been manipulated during development.

When Jaeger had told him that he’d climbed a tree to take a picture of an owl, Levi had naturally assumed he meant with his phone, but this was clearly done with a nice camera. An expensive one, probably (Levi’s _not_ a camera person). Because this is a professional quality picture.

He has other patients to see, so he makes a stop by his office and quickly tacks the picture to the board behind his desk. He’ll be sure to pass it along to Petra, the next time they cross paths. Levi spares it one more glance, and then hears a harried, “Dr. Ackerman!” from the hallway and goes to meet it.

*

Petra mentions the owl, once, a few days later. Something about how it’s new, or where he got it, Levi doesn’t quite remember, only that she brought it back to the forefront of his attention.

_A patient brought it for you_ , he considers saying, but instead just hums noncommittally and let’s it stay where it is. He’s grown quite used to it, after all.

*

In reality, it’s not all that strange that Levi sees Eren Jaeger again. He’d said it himself—he’s a regular, and clearly he frequented this particular Urgent Care often enough that he was acquainted with Petra.

But it still surprises Levi when he walks briskly into Room 3 (why is it always Room 3?) not long after 10pm one night, and Eren Jaeger is sitting there, looking very much like he’s about to keel over dead.

Levi is pulling a surgical mask out of a drawer before either of them has the chance to say anything.

“I’m not contagious,” Jaeger insists, voice thick and muffled by the sound of sickness. “I’m _fine_ ,” he continues, although it sounds like he’s trying to persuade himself more than he’s trying to convince Levi.

“Clearly.” Levi pulls the mask over his face. “I always go to Urgent Care when I’m in perfect health.” Chances are, it’s probably just a cold, but for some reason, the standard adult has a hard time believing that a doctor can do nothing for them. Levi will check his vitals, take his temperature, and then send him home with a prescription for some fucking _bed rest_. Don’t these people know he has legitimate patients to see with _actual_ health concerns?

“It’s just a cold.” Jaeger sniffs, and Levi sneers in disgust, thankful that the mask covers it. This is why he’d studied to be a surgeon. He _hates_ illness. Give him bleeding wounds and exposed bones any day of the week.

“If you know that, why exactly are you here?” Levi asks, and just as he finishes, Jaeger turns to the side and hacks up an incredibly disgusting cough that is clearly the sign of whatever ails him not being _just a fucking cold_. “Not contagious my ass,” he mutters, feeling slightly better as he gets some gloves over his exposed skin. He slides his stethoscope into his ears as he approaches, and then gives Eren a calculating look.

“I’m going to take a listen to your lungs. Can you lift your shirt up for me, or do you need me to do it for you?” Levi just stares at him for a few seconds, long enough to see some color come to Jaeger’s pale cheeks before he awkwardly pulls his shirt up to reveal his chest. He does enjoy it, a little, when the cold metal touches Jaeger’s skin and he jumps a bit, but keeps his face blank and says, “Now take a few, good, deep breaths for me.”

Jaeger makes it two before he twists away and starts violently coughing again, and Levi nods to himself, letting the binaurals return to rest around his neck.

“It sounds like you have some fluid in your lungs. I’m going to finish up with your vitals, and then I’ll send you along for an x-ray,” Levi says as he makes note on his clipboard. Jaeger groans and mumbles something under his breath, that just leads him into another coughing fit. Levi rolls his eyes.

“How’s Dr. Ral?” He insists on asking as Levi takes his blood pressure, and by the way his brow is pinched, Levi takes a wild guess that talking is far from a pleasant experience for him.

“I’m afraid if you aimed to see her tonight, you missed the mark a little farther than usual, Mr. Jaeger,” Levi replies absently. “Unfortunately for you, it’s going to be quite a bit harder to catch her, seeing as she’s gone on maternity leave for the next 16 to 24 weeks.” He sees Jaeger nod out of the corner of his eye, rubbing at his sternum.

“She was getting pretty big,” he comments.

“Experiencing chest pain?” Levi asks, because this isn’t a fucking social visit, and if he wanted to talk about Petra, he’d—well, he never really has the inclination to talk about her, so he doesn’t know.

“Kind of.” Jaeger stops rubbing his chest, and Levi makes note of it either way alongside Jaeger’s blood pressure. “So it’s just you now?”

“Just me?” Levi is more focused on attaching a new specula to his otoscope than Jaeger’s constant vigil in the war against Levi’s displeasure of small talk. If nothing else, he’s certainly a persistent little shit.

“Yeah, like, running the Urgent Care.”

Levi doesn’t even give warning as he sticks the otoscope in Jaeger’s ear.

“That’s right, Mr. Jaeger. I’m running it all on my own now,” Levi deadpans. “Don’t be ridiculous. There are two other doctors that work here.” Moblit, and then Petra’s replacement, Dr. Brzenska. Levi’s not quite sure how he feels about her on a personal level, but professionally, he doesn’t mind her. At least it’s not Hanji. Levi gets enough of them outside of the workplace, he doesn’t need their… Exuberance in his clinic, as well.

“Really?” The decibel with which he asks the question appears to be too much for him, but at least he turns away from Levi when he starts coughing.

_Disgusting_ , Levi thinks with a scowl, and is thankful when a gentle knock comes to the door. Krista opens the door a crack, and Levi lets out a sigh of relief.

“Ms. Lenz here will be taking you for your x-ray. Try your best _not_ to cough all over her.”

*

It’s bronchitis, and Levi writes prescriptions for amoxicillin and codeine, and throws in an inhaler for good measure. Jaeger stares at the papers with a look close to confusion, and Levi remembers the kid’s reluctance to admit even being sick and wonders what made him go see a doctor when there was no gaping wound demanding it.

“Those should do the trick, but make sure you’re getting rest, drinking fluids. The usual,” Levi instructs, putting his finishing touches on the next set of paperwork to be added to Eren Jaeger’s file. He pauses, thinking of the owl that overlooks his desk, and asks in a detached, distracted voice, “You have someone to look after you?”

“Y-yeah,” he answers, and Levi can hear the surprise in his voice even through all the mucus and fluid. “Not, like, a boyfriend or anything, though. Just, uh, just my sister,” he explains, and Levi looks up at him, unable to keep the confusion off his face.

“Okay?” He drawls, the end tipping up in a bemusement. Jaeger just shrugs, and if he wasn’t running a fever, Levi would think the sudden splotches of color spreading across his face was due to blushing or some shit. “If the symptoms persist past the antibiotics, come back, but chances are I’ll have to refer you to a specialist or an actual hospital if that’s the case.” Loathe as he is to admit it, Levi can’t cure every ailment that comes through his door.

Levi checks his watch, and knows he has a bone to go and set. He’s spent enough of his night with Mr. Jaeger.

“The girls up front will help you with anything else you need.” Levi gives him a curt nod, and then grabs the door, when Jaeger starts to make a strange noise that makes him pause. Levi turns to look at him, concern plain on his face. Is he having trouble breathing? Levi was sure they caught the bronchitis fairly early, but doctors make mistakes, it happens—

“Thank you,” Jaeger blurts, and Levi realizes that the sound had been a false start. The beginning of a word that just couldn’t finish.

“No need. I’m a doctor. It’s what we do.”

“Yeah, I just…” Levi can see his knuckles turn white where he’s gripping the edge of the examination table. “I didn’t thank you for my leg, either, so it goes for both.” A pause. “Dr. Levi.”

“Ackerman,” Levi corrects instantly, the sound of his name coming out of Jaeger’s mouth in such a fashion catching him off-guard. “Dr. Ackerman, and you are Mr. Jaeger,” he says, drawing the lines firmly in the sand.

“You can call me Eren, I wouldn’t mind.” And somehow, even looking remotely like a corpse, Jaeger smiles at him, all teeth and cocky attitude, and Levi just stares at him for a few quiet moments before resolutely opening the door and not giving the brat a dignified response. “Good night, Levi!” He calls, and as a medical professional, Levi should not feel a sense of vindication when Eren Jaeger starts to hack up his lung a moment later.

_Weird ass kid_.

*

For some time, Levi considers getting rid of the owl picture. He looks at it too often as he writes reports at his desk, pausing to just stare at it and marvel at how such a piece of art came from one _Eren Jaeger_. He almost does it, too, until Petra swings by one day and Levi comes back into his office to see the photo not only framed but mounted more permanently on his wall.

“You’re so particular about what you display, I figured this owl picture you’re so fond of deserved more than a push pin and a corkboard,” she’d said to him, and Levi knows it’s another one of her roundabout ways of saying _thank you_ to him without actually saying it. He’s normally grateful, but this time he glares at the offending frame.

Well, he can’t get rid of it _now_.

Levi consoles himself with the thought that Eren Jaeger will never know what became of his owl picture, and therefore it’s hurting no one and nothing by staying right where it is in his office.

*

Eren Jaeger makes his appearance so often in Room 3 (“I think I might have a fever,” “I have this weird pain in my side,” “I keep getting this weird rash on my neck, am I having an allergic reaction?” and countless other bullshit that takes up Levi’s time and ends up being nothing), Levi is beginning to consider asking him or the nurses if he requests that room specifically. There’s nothing altogether special about it—it looks just like every other examination room in the building. The examination table is navy blue rather than some other color, but that’s the only difference. If Levi believed in things like fate, maybe he’d chalk it up to that, but why the fuck would fate even be so invested in a particular room?

“Fell again?” Levi asks in wry amusement as he hangs the clipboard from the door, and Eren shrugs his shoulders and crosses his arms like he doesn’t want to talk about it. Levi sees no bandages or blood, which is a good sign, although makes him a little wary. This brat better not be here wasting his time with some not-injury ( _again_ ).

“Slipped, actually,” he mumbles in response, staring resolutely at the wall and not at Levi.

“And how did you slip, Mr. Jaeger?” Levi presses, not wanting to deal with his bullshit of skirting around the topic at hand because he finds it faintly embarrassing. As far as Levi is concerned, this kid has never come in with some weird object shoved up his ass, so he has nothing to be embarrassed about. Stitches, bronchitis, a sprain? Sure, he might have a severe case of hypochondria, but so does any adult who watches the news too much. Those are hardly interesting medical stories worthy of passing around among his peers.

A candelabra that a patient swears he slipped and fell on with his ass? Now _that’s_ a story.

Then again, Jaeger has only said that he slipped, and he looks awfully embarrassed about it. Maybe there’s more to this than he’s letting on, although he doesn’t really look like he has something shoved up his—

Levi should probably stop thinking about what this teenage boy looks like with something in his ass.

“At work,” he finally mumbles in response. “The floor was wet, and I was moving too fast. Slipped and bent my ankle funny.” He’s all hunched over, puffed up like a wary cat, and it’s a little amusing. “And it’s Eren.”

So he’s still on that kick. Levi was sure that would have died considering the few weeks (and the many visits) it’s been since the bronchitis incident.

“I hope they’re comping that for you,” Levi says, ignoring the name topic entirely as he sits on his stool and slides over in nearly the same motion. Best bet is that it’s a sprain. Most likely. Levi will have him taken for yet _another_ x-ray, on the off chance that it’s not something more serious, but no entertaining medical stories here today. A pity, really. “Shoe and sock off, please,” he instructs, already not looking forward at touching a foot and certainly not touching Jaeger’s nasty-ass shoe as he _snicks_ on his gloves.

“Let me know when what I’m doing hurts,” Levi mutters as he begins to gently press on the skin stretched over the bones of his feet, but doesn’t get his first wince until he’s prodding on the muscles near the actual joint. His fingers skirt the curves of the bone—Jaeger has surprisingly dainty ankle bones—and when he rolls the ankle gently, there’s a low hiss whistled through teeth. “Tender?” Levi glances up, and Jaeger’s mouth is pressed in a thin line when he nods.

“I’m pretty certain it’s a sprain,” Levi deduces after a few more movement tests. “I’ll have you taken for an x-ray just in case, but there’s a good chance you won’t need any sort of cast.” A brace, maybe.

“Do you, uh, not take people for x-rays?” Jaeger asks carefully, fingers tapping against his knees in a way that makes Levi feel agitated.

“That’s why we have interns,” Levi replies dryly. “Are you okay to walk, or would you like a wheel chair?” There’s a quirk at the corner of Levi’s mouth that he can’t help, and it just makes Jaeger bristle like a cat again. _Really_ , it’s too easy.

“I can walk.” As if to demonstrate, there he goes, hopping off the examination table like a jackass again. It would be amusing if Levi didn’t see him catch his bad ankle wrong, and he’s darting forward to catch him as it buckles and Jaeger lets out a yelp of pain.

“I asked if you could walk, not if you were a fucking moron,” Levi hisses, heaving him back up to standing. “Maybe I should put you in a cast anyway. I’m sure a week or two off your feet will give everyone around you some god damn rest.” He still has Jaeger firmly by the upper arms, and hopes the kid’s dipped head is because he’s so fucking mortified he’s hoping the floor will swallow him up. “You _sure_ you don’t want a wheel chair?” Levi reiterates, and all traces of mocking and teasing are gone. He might be an asshole, but at the end of the day, he’s a doctor, and he actually does give a shit about his patients.

Even when his patients are shits themselves.

“Hello?” His tone turns annoyed, and he’s half made up his mind to shake Jaeger back into responsiveness when he lifts his head and… Looks at Levi in a way that makes him altogether uncomfortable. “Will you be able to stand if I let go, or do you need me to hold your hand the entire way to the x-ray room?”

Shit. He was going for sarcastic, but if the way Jaeger is smiling at him is any indication, Levi just said the wrong fucking thing.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you held my hand.”

_This little shit_ , Levi thinks, and then immediately removes his hands from where he’s gripping Jaeger a little harder than necessary. When he doesn’t topple over, Levi decides it’s safe to make his retreat.

“A nurse will come and take you for x-rays,” he says, not looking directly at Jaeger as he leaves. He makes sure they take a wheel chair, just so the kid can feel even half as rattled as Levi currently feels.

*

He sends Eren Jaeger home with a sprained ankle, bandaged and braced, and instructions to stay off of it as much as possible for the next two weeks (“to be safe”), keeping it elevated, iced when necessary, and taking pain relievers if he feels the need. Levi keeps himself as detached and cold as possible, but that doesn’t stop Jaeger from staring at him with his big, moony eyes, although at least he keeps his mouth _shut_.

Until the end of his appointment comes and Levi moves to leave without so much as a head nod, when Jaeger says, “Have a good rest of your night, Dr. Levi.”

And Levi makes the mistake of looking at him, of seeing the fire in his eyes, the determination there, and wondering how this happened. Shit like this doesn’t actually happen outside of ridiculous romance novels and probably porn (not that Levi is all that acquainted with either), and if it does, it doesn’t fucking happen _to him_. He’s not exactly a Grey’s Anatomy doctor.

Fuck, he hasn’t even been _nice_ to this kid, so how the fuck was he encouraged to the point of heart eyes?

And now he’s staring at Levi like he’s some sort of fucking challenge, and if Levi wanted to deal with this sort of shit, he’d still be working at the local county general with Erwin.

Levi wilts under that look, and his response comes out on the sigh of a tired soldier readying himself for war. “Eren,” he says in lieu of a farewell, and leaves.

Two weeks later, he makes a temporary switch with Dr. Brzenska, certain that Eren will find a reason to return once his ankle is healed.

*

“So one of our patients has a crush on you, huh?” Dr. Brzenska asks him during the slim overlap time they have between shifts. Levi is counting down the days until he’s back on the night rotation, already worn down to the barest threads of his nerves dealing with the patients that come during regular business hours. Give him feverish babies and stomach pumpings any day of the week.

Levi doesn’t acknowledge her comment.

“Makes sense why you suddenly wanted to switch shift times with me,” she goes on to say. She has the same tone towards things as Levi does, the same clinical eye, which works, in this field. But not so much in the realm of personal relationships. Generally, they pass by each other like ships in the night—not really giving a fuck that the other is there, except in regards to giving a sizeable berth around them. “He’s an attractive kid, objectively speaking.”

Fucking shit. If Levi wanted this sort of meddling, he would have hired Hanji.

“He’s a kid,” is all Levi says in response, not looking up from his computer screen. He can hardly keep his eyes open, and all he can think about is his bed.

“He talked about you a lot,” she continues, and Levi wonders if he misread her. If the disinterest in her tone is not _actual_ disinterest, but just the result of monotonous speech patterns. While they may not be making eye contact or taking attention away from their respective duties, she does keep pushing as much as Levi keeps willing this particular conversation to just _fucking die_ already. “Mentioned that weird owl picture you have.”

_It’s not weird_ , Levi almost retorts compulsively, but bites it back. He doesn’t even hum in recognition of the comment.

“Told him you framed it and hung it in your office.”

“I’m sorry.” Levi clicks out of his email, and turns a cold glare on her. She meets it. “You did what now?”

She blinks at him, her stare level and lacking off all emotion, and then does the last button on her coat. “Have a good night.” And then she’s gone, already barking orders to interns to prepare for the night. Levi watches her go, and when he pulls himself from his chair, he feels the entire day weighing down on his shoulders and his eyelids. He hides a yawn in the collar of his coat, and then drags himself from the building, lucky for once to be so exhausted that he can’t focus on the ramifications of what Dr. Brzenska has done.

Which is apparently more than she let on.

“Dr. Levi!”

Levi presses a hand over his eyes, and wishes, not for the first time, that the baby logic of not being able to see meant that you, in turn, could not be seen.

“Or… Is it just Levi since you’re not on the clock?”

Nope. Eren can still see him. He opens his eyes tiredly, and there’s Eren. Not sick, or injured, but perfectly whole, a camera hanging around his neck and the handlebars of a cherry red bike between his hands.

“Seeing as you’re still my patient even when I’m not currently working, Dr. Ackerman would be the most appropriate.” He blinks tiredly, mouth settling into a frown. “But seeing as you’ve disregarded that, I don’t see how me telling you anything on the contrary would stop you from addressing me by my first name.”

“So… Levi’s cool?” Eren’s voice tips up in an unsure question, and Levi just rolls his eyes and flaps his hand dismissively. He doesn’t have time for this. It’s late, the fall air is starting to get rather chilly, and he’s dead on his feet. “Besides, I’m not really your patient. At least, not for the last two weeks.”

“That’s not how that works,” Levi contradicts, breathing strangely for a moment to fight the yawn that threatens to break out. “Did you need something?” He flexes his fingers and sticks them into his pockets, his knuckles already stiff from the cold.

“What?” Eren’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, I was just saying hi, ‘cause… ‘Cause I haven’t seen you in awhile, I guess.” He kicks at the sidewalk, ducking his head, and Levi has to admit he finds it endearing.

Unfortunately, Eren is his patient, and about 12 years too young.

“Hi,” Levi says, tersely.

“Are you okay?” Eren pushes on, and Levi sighs heavily. “You look tired.”

“Really?” Levi’s certain his voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I just worked 12 hours at an urgent care clinic, how could I possibly be tired?” It turns sharper at the end, to the point where Eren winces. _Good_ , Levi thinks snidely. He should feel bad in the wake of his own fucking stupidity.

“Well, did you want to go and get some coffee, or—”

“What I want is to get in my car and drive home and go to bed, before I have to be back here at 6am.” Levi gives Eren a tired look. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

He’s so young that when his eyes widen again, and his cheeks flush deeper than the cold-pinched color they’d already held, Levi knows that Eren is very aware of what he’s doing.

“I’m asking you out to coffee,” Eren says, and that fire is back, the one that is too intense for Levi to stare at directly. “Isn’t that how this works?”

“How what works? You inappropriately asking to spend personal time with your doctor?” Levi regards Eren cooly. “I’m your doctor, you’re my patient, and I’m nearly twice your age.”

“So?” Eren’s eyebrow furrows, and he digs his own hands into the pockets of his coat, chin dipping into cozy-looking fabric of the scarf tastefully coiled around his neck. “Okay, like, the doctor-patient relationship thing I get, so I’ll just… Stop being your patient. Easy. But the age thing?” He shakes his head. “I don’t care.”

“Good for you. That doesn’t change the fact that I do.” Levi looks away from him, hunching his shoulders and wishing he had a scarf of his own. Then again, the walk from the clinic to his car doesn’t usually take so fucking long. “Goodnight, Eren.”

“Why?” Eren asks, and Levi’s sigh comes out as a white cloud in the air. “Why do you care?”

“Because I spend enough of my work day looking after children, I don’t need to do it in my off time, as well.”

“I’m not a kid,” Eren typically retorts.

“Yes, you are.” Levi turns on him. “And throwing a tantrum right now isn’t exactly helping your case. Now let me go home before I freeze my fucking fingers off,” he bites, and is startled when Eren is suddenly grabbing him by the elbow.

“You’re calling me a kid, and you can’t even dress yourself properly for cold weather,” Eren chides, and his voice is soft and warm which is… Surprising, considering the content of their previous conversation. Or rather, Levi taking his stupid grade school crush and stomping it into the cracks of the sidewalk to die there.

He can’t even register what’s happening as Eren unwinds the scarf around his neck and transfers it to Levi’s, so shocked that it’s even happening. First a patient has romantic feelings for him, and now this rom-com scarf bullshit?

That’s why he’s not moving and letting it happen. Pure shock.

“You’ll change your mind,” Eren says confidently, patting the knot of the scarf before he releases Levi and steps back.

“Doubtful,” Levi replies, voice distracted by the spreading warmth of the scarf and the crisp scent of rain and leaves layered over detergent and the inescapable musk of human skin. It’s the smell of a scarf that has been out in the elements too long, has soaked up the essence of fall as a result.

Levi fights the urge to press his face into the material and breathe.

“Anyway.” Eren glances away, suddenly bashful again, as if his actions have caught up with him, and he lifts his camera and gives another grin. “Inspiration calls.” He straddles his bike and bites his lip, tipping his head to the side thoughtfully. “Goodnight, Levi.” And then there’s the screech of bicycle chains and tires against damp cement, and he’s gone.

Levi reaches up to touch the scarf with one hand, eyebrows pinched.

He has no idea where Eren is off to (nor does he _care_ , he reminds himself), but the idiot really should have taken the scarf with him.

*

The scarf is knit—by hand, most likely, considering there are no tags or signs of places a tag could have been torn out. It’s artfully done, and as Levi runs his fingers over the knit texture, he can’t help but wonder where in the world Eren got such a thing. Certainly he didn’t make it _himself_ (then again, Levi could say the same thing for the owl photo, which he is almost certain Eren took and developed all on his own).

After a fair bit of googling, he finds a way to wash it properly, and when it’s all said and done, he carefully folds it and sets it by the door. He’ll return it to Eren, at some point, and let the memory of how he ever came to have it fade into oblivion as it rightfully should.

It still makes him uncomfortable, thinking about the brush of Eren’s knuckles against his neck.

The sooner he can forget about the odd as fuck exchange, the better.

He brings the scarf to work every day that week, tucking it neatly into his desk drawer where prying eyes won’t accidentally find it, but Eren doesn’t ambush him again. When him and Dr. Brzenska switch back to their original shift times, Levi is certain it means Eren will start popping up in Room 3 again.

But he doesn’t.

Every night, Levi takes the scarf to work, and every morning he takes it home, too wary of the idea of one of his colleagues stumbling upon it and asking questions. After all, why would Levi have a handknit scarf? It’s not exactly the sort of item he keeps in his wardrobe, after all.

_You’ll change your mind_ , Eren had told him, and after two weeks of not seeing the kid, Levi is seriously starting to doubt it. After all, what kind of wooing involves avoiding the person of interest? _Change my mind, my ass_ , Levi thinks to himself.

It’s been three weeks with neither hide nor hair of Eren and Levi is beginning to think he’s free of his ridiculous crush-riddled patient and consequently burdened with a particularly cozy, navy-and-grey striped scarf. He almost leaves it at home, staring at the offending object where it sits on the entryway table of his apartment, and then scowls and takes it with him.

Dr. Brzenska is waiting for him in his office when he gets there, looking particularly emotive with how hard she is gripping a manilla envelope and staring at him with immense impatience.

“Yes?” Levi asks, careful to keep Eren’s scarf in the pocket of his coat even as he undoes his own.

“This is for you.” She holds up the envelope, and then drops it on his desk. “Now do us all a favor and humor that kid before I do something I regret.”

Levi stills with his back to her, blinking at the wall.

“Come again?”

“Eren Jaeger,” Dr. Brzenska clarifies. “Has been in to see me for every minor thing he can think of over the last several weeks. If he comes in and tells me he thinks he might have a fever _one more time_ , I can’t be held responsible for where I may or may not stick a syringe.”

“I don’t see how Mr. Jaeger’s hypochondriac behavior has anything to do with me,” Levi responds cooly, and is startled when he turns around and Dr. Brzenska is right there, envelope once again in her hand as she shoves it into his chest.

“Please don’t insult my intelligence.” She gives him a hard look and then stalks out of the room to finish up the last hour of her shift. Levi stares down at the envelope sticking to the fabric of his sweater, and then sighs, holding it out so he can see it properly. His name is written on it in thick black sharpie, and there’s a smiley face drawn beside it, and he pinches the bridge of his nose and goes to slump into his office chair.

He sets it face down and ignores it, the same way he’s been ignoring the scarf’s origin for nearly a month, and gets through responding to one email before before he heaves out a sigh and pops the tab on the envelope, sliding out not _one_ , but _six_ glossy pieces of photo paper. Like the owl, none of them are of particularly amazing subject matters. There’s a collage of leaves floating in a puddle, a nearly barren tree, a lamp in the rain, a chair stacked with books taken from outside a storefront window, someone holding a brilliantly colored umbrella while standing next to a familiar looking cherry red bike. The last one is a damp flowerbed that Levi recognizes as the one that runs alongside the walk that leads up to the Urgent Care.

He lets himself look at each one once, and then carefully slips all of them back into the envelope before hiding it away in his desk drawer. Pressing his mouth against his laced fingers, still chilled from his brief time outside, Levi stares at where his coat is hanging on the rack, at the pocket where the scarf is hidden, and curses to himself.

Somehow, by being absent for nearly a month, Eren has become more present in Levi’s life than he ever was before.

*

When Levi leaves the clinic in Moblit’s capable hands at just after 5am, it’s raining. He stands just under the building overhang, staring out at the blurry lights of the city through the rainfall for a few moments before there’s a glint of red in the corner of his vision, and he sighs heavily.

“Aren’t you up past your bedtime?” Levi asks, turning up the collar of his coat as he prepares to walk through the rain. His umbrella is uselessly hanging from a hook back in his apartment, but it’s not far to the safety of his car.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Eren shoots back, standing under the same yellow umbrella from the photo. He takes a few steps closer, and for a second Levi considers ducking back inside the Urgent Care and napping in his office for the next few hours instead of dealing with this situation. “I brought you coffee,” Eren says with a grin, holding up a paper cup, and Levi stares at it.

“Why?” The gesture, frankly, makes him uncomfortable. Giving him photos, lending him the scarf, and now bringing him coffee? Levi shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Because you won’t go and get it with me, and—” Eren breaks off with an aptly timed yawn, and Levi realizes the kid looks absolutely exhausted. Fucking christ, did he wake up early just to give Levi coffee? “And because it’s early,” he finally finishes, rubbing at his nose with a gloved hand.

“For some of us, it’s late,” Levi clarifies. “And the last thing we want before going home and sleeping through the day is a shit ton of caffeine.” Eren looks thoroughly puzzled for a moment before his nodoubt sleep addled mind catches up with what exactly it is Levi is saying, and then it’s not long before he looks like a kicked dog—all sad and lonely and reprimanded. The rain adds a nice touch of melancholy to the picture. “Besides.” Might as well twist the knife while it’s in there. “I don’t drink coffee.”

Eren is frowning deeply, but he nods, and mumbles a soft, “Noted,” that is nearly eaten up by the sound of the rain.

“So you drink it.” Lord knows the kid needs it more than he does. “Oh.” He reaches into his pocket, and extracts the scarf, awkwardly holding it out into the space between them. The skin of his bare hand starts to catch raindrops. “And take this back.”

Eren reaches out and grabs it, and Levi is careful to keep their hands from touching, which is quite a triumph, he must say, when it’s clear that Eren is striving for the exact opposite.

“My scarf,” Eren says in surprise, and Levi honestly can’t believe that Eren just took something from him without realizing what it was. How the fuck is this kid so… Trusting? It must be his youth, Levi argues. He has yet to be beaten and bittered by the world. “You didn’t have to give it back, you know.” Eren is thumbing at the material, and then suddenly lifts it to his face and smells it. He laughs, smiling into the fabric. “You _washed_ it.”

“Of course I did,” Levi snaps. “I’m not a fucking savage.”

Eren continues to chuckle under his breath, and Levi can see him pulling his limbs closer, trying to keep the warmth in. Shit, Eren needs to get home before he actually does get a fever.

“It looked better on you,” Eren says softly, and the air becomes tense, Levi’s doctorly warning dying before it even has the chance to fully form.

“Go home, Eren,” Levi sighs, shaking his head.

“Did you get the pictures?” Eren just continues on like Levi never said anything, seemingly oblivious to the tension, and Levi figures—fuck it. He’s given Eren his scarf back, he doesn’t need to spend anymore time sticking around here.

He strides into the rain, and is hardly surprised when Eren starts to follow him, the chain of his bike screeching as he walks.

“You don’t have an umbrella?” Eren asks as they walk.

“My car is right there,” Levi answers, and then curses himself for doing so. _Just ignore him, and he’ll go away_.

“Oh.” A beat. “Dr. Brzenska said you had that picture of the owl I gave you framed in your office.”

And there it is.

“I—it’s not my best work,” Eren rushes to say, suddenly sounding incredibly embarrassed. “I tried to take some better ones for you, but I don’t… I don’t know exactly what you like looking at, so I sort of just guessed.”

The rain stops falling down Levi’s neck, and there’s yellow in every corner of his vision. Eren is beside him, umbrella raised above them.

“But if you let me know what you like, I can try—”

“Is this your newest method of flirting?” Levi cuts in, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“What?” Eren sounds genuinely startled by the accusation. “Oh, no, n-not at all, actually. I just, um, no one’s ever really framed one of my pictures before. I mean, like, aside from my sister or my mom or some of my friends, so I just…”

Levi makes the mistake of glancing at him, at the way he’s looking down and toying with the ends of the scarf he’s wearing—solid green today. There are raindrops sticking to his cheek, in his eyelashes, and Levi has the weird urge to pull the ever present camera from around his neck and snap a picture of his own.

He’s young, and beautiful, and why he’s wasting his energy on a dead-end like Levi is a fucking mystery.

“Were you planning on biking home in this weather?” Levi asks, staring out into the just lightening darkness of the early morning.

“W-what?”

“As your doctor, I can’t rightfully let you bike home in this. You’re already soaked as it is. You’ve already had bronchitis this year, we don’t need you revisiting that.”

“Are you offering me a ride home, Levi?” Eren teases, the grin on his face too pleased and too happy.

“I’m being a responsible adult. Your bike, unfortunately, will have to stay here.” There isn’t room for it, or the dirt dripping off of it, in Levi’s sedan. Eren pulls it closer to himself, frowning a little bit.

“Leave it?” He looks around, at the dark, basically empty parking lot. “ _Here?_ What if it gets stolen?”

Levi blinks at him.

“Not here, specifically, in this spot. There’s a bike rack over there.” Levi points in the darkness. “What do you usually do with it?” Considering Eren is here approximately three times a week, and since his only mode of transportation is seemingly a bike, Levi had figured he knew about the bike rack’s existence.

“I bring it into the waiting room with me,” Eren explains, and Levi stares at him in disgusted shock. “Here, hold this.” Before Levi can tell Eren exactly how repulsive it is that he drags his bike into the waiting room that Levi has meticulously cleaned twice a day, Eren is shoving the umbrella into Levi’s hand and darting out into the rain with his bike.

What is with this kid and making himself vulnerable to the elements with complete disregard to the consequences? The handle is warm in Levi’s grip, and he watches the dimmed red blur across the parking lot until Eren is jogging back into sight, his jacket nearly soaked all the way through.

“All right, all done,” he exclaims, looking too happy for someone so wet, and Levi scoffs.

“Idiot. Next time, take the umbrella.” He’s going to drip all over Levi’s upholstery now. Not that Levi isn’t dripping himself. He shoves the umbrella back at Eren, and Eren catches it before Levi can pull his hand away, fabric covered fingers closing around Levi’s.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Levi asks flatly, staring at their hands.

“ _Shit_ , your fingers are freezing. You should really consider wearing gloves.”

“Let go.” The umbrella shivers and shakes between them as Levi attempts to pull his hand away, and Eren refuses to relent. “This is harassment.” Probably. Levi knows a lawyer or two that would probably back him up on it.

“I like to think of it as persistence,” Eren responds, matter-of-fact, and Levi scowls at him.

“If you want a ride home, let go, otherwise you can stand out here and turn into a drowned rat for all I care,” he bites, and it’s more upsetting than it should be that Eren doesn’t look remotely put out by the threat. He does, however, move his hand so that Levi can retract his own without the umbrella being released. “Good. Get in the fucking car.” Levi gives a sharp jerk of his chin, and then slides less gracefully than he intends into the driver’s seat.

There is a full twenty seconds of silence and stale cold while Levi sits in the car, waiting for Eren to cross around to the passenger seat, where he is aware of how big of a mistake he just made, and then Eren is there, buckling his seatbelt, water dripping from his hair like a fucking dog, and Levi _could_ push him out and into a puddle. He won’t, but he could.

And probably should.

Instead, he turns on the car, flips on the heated seats, and dials the heater as high as he can stand. Beside him, Eren lets out a tiny hum of pleasure at the sudden warmth.

They ride in silence, aside from Eren’s occasional directions to wherever it is that he lives and the _swish-swish_ of the wiper blades, and Levi feels the exhaustion of his day settle on his shoulders. He reflects on his patients, on the workload he left for the day crew and for his future self. He thinks of the scarf that Eren is still holding, perfectly folded, in one hand, and of the envelope of pictures sitting in his desk drawer.

He thinks of Eren’s ostentatious bike, and the camera he’s currently inspecting for damage, and the way he looks sitting there, in Levi’s car. In Levi’s space.

It’s all very weird.

Everything about Eren makes Levi feel very… _Weird_.

It annoys him. How many years of high level education and his best word for the situation is _weird?_ He doesn’t kick Erwin’s ass at Scrabble with words like _weird_.

And yet it’s the only word he has for it.

“Thanks, by the way,” Eren says after a time, gloves off as he warms his fingers over the blast of the car heater. Levi glances at him momentarily, and is extra thankful for the rain and how much attention driving in it requires. That way, he has no excuse to stare at Eren, who wears rain like a rather fashionable statement, and Levi is sure that if Eren stood all night in it, he would never look like a drowned rat.

It’s a little infuriating.

The only time Levi is drenched is when it’s voluntary. When he can control the where and the when and the how of it. But there had been one time, in college, when some of his classmates had thought it would be funny to douse him with water balloons, and he’d looked like a rather disgruntled cat after a bath.

“For driving me home,” Eren elaborates unnecessarily, sniffing and wiping at his nose with his sleeze. Levi shoots him a look.

“There are tissues in the glove compartment. Don’t be disgusting,” he snips.

“Oh.” Eren tentatively opens it, snatching out a few. “Thanks for that, too.” Levi just nods. Like maybe, if he doesn’t admit to what he’s doing, he can ignore whatever implications it might have.

“Left at this light,” Eren instructs. Levi goes left, and Eren says, “You know, you’re not my doctor anymore.”

Levi sighs. And they’d almost made it.

“I told you, it doesn’t work that way.”

“Doesn’t work _what_ way?” Eren insists, sounding a little annoyed. “You keep _saying_ that, but what does it mean? I see Dr. Brzenska now, and when Dr. Ral comes back, I’ll see her. They’re my doctors, not _you_.”

“I’m the lead doctor at that clinic,” Levi explains. “If, for whatever reason, Dr. Brzenska or Dr. Ral was unable to help you, I would be the next person they turned to, whether I was there or not.”

“Then I’ll go somewhere else,” Eren shoots back, hotly, and Levi sends him a wary look. “There, I’m not your patient, you’re not my doctor. Will you go see a movie with me?”

“Absolutely not.” Levi hasn’t been to a movie theater in _ages_. Eren groans in frustration, head thumping back against the seat.

“So then the whole patient-doctor thing was bullshit, because you still won’t go out on a date with me. _One_ ,” Eren stresses, like asking Levi on one date is perfectly reasonable and how dare Levi not see that.

“It’s not bullshit. Did you ever take into account that I just don’t want to date _you?_ ”

There are a few long, awkward moments of painful silence before Levi realizes how much of an asshole he just was. He presses his lips together, and doesn’t know how to fix it without causing more damage.

“You’re just too young,” is what he banks on, because every other reason feels like a loophole Eren will find a way to extort.

“I’m 25,” Eren counters.

“You’re 19, brat. It’s in your paperwork.” Levi rolls his eyes.

“...I’ll be 20 in a few months?” Eren tries, sounding a lot more defeated.

“Good lord, you can’t even drink—”

“Legally!” Eren supplies, like it’s helpful information.

“—and you’ve probably never voted in a presidential election—”

“We had a mock election, and I only missed it by a few months, okay!”

“—you probably don’t even know what APR is—”

“Why?” Eren butts in, sounding almost angry now. “What, I’m young so that immediately means I don’t know how to take care of myself? Okay, so maybe I sit around in my underwear playing video games way later than I should, but that doesn’t mean I don’t pay my rent on time or have bills. It’s that building where the flickering street light is, by the way.”

Levi recognizes the street light. It’s the one from Eren’s photo.

He pulls the car to the curb and lets it idle.

“Have you considered actually trying to get to know me?” Eren asks, voice restrained, and then he sighs and shakes his head. “Thanks again. For the ride.”

He pops his umbrella and closes the car door, and Levi watches as he approaches a man huddled by the stoop of the apartment building. Eren hands him the still full coffee, the scarf Levi had returned, and the umbrella, before he heads to the door. He throws one last look at Levi’s car before he disappears inside, and Levi sits there, listening to the sound of his windshield wipers and frowning thoughtfully to himself.

Getting to know Eren _isn’t_ something he’s ever considered, but that’s because he has no interest in it.

At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself, even as he thoughtfully watches a homeless man drink coffee for a few moments before finally driving home.

*

Eren’s bike is gone when Levi gets to work the next day. He finds himself hoping Eren was the one to fetch it, and it was not, in fact, stolen.

*

When Levi leaves the following morning, he isn’t at all surprised to see Eren waiting for him. There’s a sigh and dismissal waiting on his lips, when all Eren does is smile and press another paper cup into his hands.

“Don’t worry. It’s not coffee,” Eren promises, standing so close that Levi is fighting the urge to take eight steps back to create the proper amount of space between them. His hands linger, gloveless this night, and he shakes his head like a concerned parent and mutters, “Seriously. You need gloves.”

And he rubs his hands, which are remarkably warm despite the weather, against Levi’s frozen fingers for a few moments before pulling back.

“Good night, Levi.”

Eren smiles, mounts his bike, and rides in the direction of his apartment, leaving a trail of white breath behind him as Levi stands rooted to his spot.

He looks down at the cup, and cautiously brings it to his lips, taking a sip.

Camomile tea.

Levi huffs out a laugh despite himself.

_That little shit_.

*

Personal relationships that extend beyond what exists between a doctor and their patients aren’t exactly Levi’s forte. In his experience, they aren’t _any_ doctor’s forte. Petra’s is the most successful, but she married someone else in a medical field (if you can even count orthodontistry as a fucking medical field). But it’s similar enough that they both understand how demanding of a field it is, while they don’t get sick of each other because they see each other at work all the time, or get into heated arguments because they practice the same type of medicine.

Hell, even friendships are tricky. Levi sees Erwin a few times a year between their schedules, but otherwise their friendship has been reduced to daily emails and _sometimes_ a phone call if the the stars are fucking aligned perfectly. Seeing Hanji is a little easier, but it’s still once or twice every two months, although Levi thinks their relationship is best in small doses.

But romance? Erwin has been divorced twice, and Hanji sees Moblit only fairly more often than they see Levi, so they’ve spent the better part of eight years dancing around the subject and each other.

In med school, there had been more people hooking up than forming anything that might get in the way of their careers, and hooking up was never (and still isn’t) Levi’s thing. He’s just never felt, or understood, the compulsion, and he just hasn’t had the fucking time to cultivate anything more serious.

There had been kind of a thing with Erwin, once upon a time, before their careers tore them in two different directions and there was enough pressure on their friendship to dissuade them from trying to kindle it into anything more.

Eren is a fucking _kid_. He might think he wants to date Levi, but he has no fucking idea what that entails. Levi sleeps while most people are awake. He works 12 hour days and often 7 day work weeks consistently, until he’s worn so close to the bone that he nearly has to be hospitalized himself for working to the point of exhaustion.

Levi doesn’t have time to devote to some lovey dovey, butterfly-in-his-stomach, high school romance, or whatever it is that Eren thinks he can turn this into. And even if he did, it would be a waste. In the end, Eren would realize his mistake, and Levi would be left with a shitload of wasted time and another relationship lost in the fires of his career.

*

He starts to find himself thinking about things he shouldn’t be thinking about.

Like the scarf that he doesn’t carry around anymore, or a colorized photo of leaves floating in a puddle, or the popping red color of a bike, or one of the best cups of camomile tea Levi has ever had (which may have more to do with getting off of a long shift and having tea waiting for him than the actual tea, itself).

It’s just Eren getting under his skin. Most people don’t push at Levi’s boundaries as much as he has been, and that’s what’s sticking with him.

It doesn’t mean any more than that.

And yet, on those particular nights when he gets off work, fingers still cold because he hates fabric gloves and refuses to wear them, and Eren isn’t there waiting for him, isn’t there taking pictures of a snail traversing his way across the sidewalk or keeping his own hands warm on whatever tea he’s brought Levi that night, there’s the strange, hollow feeling of disappointment.

Levi decides to acquaint it with having a dog that waits for you by the door most nights, but not all. He’s sure there’s a sense of disappointment with that, too, but then again, he’s never owned a dog, so it’s hard to make a true comparison.

Still. He’s sure that’s the feeling.

It has to be.

*

Levi doesn’t see Eren while he’s working for weeks after that. He sees Eren exclusively after work, no matter how many times he tells him that his tricks aren’t working, and for god’s sake, sleep like a normal person. Eren is still there. All smiles and delicious tea and, _good night, Levi_. He’ll walk with Levi to his car and talk about the photos he’s taken, try to figure out the things that Levi likes.

He doesn’t ask Levi out to the movies, or to coffee, or anywhere else. He’s just… _There_.

Levi hates it.

So the next time Levi is handed paperwork with Eren’s information on it (very clearly Eren’s, but also _written_ very clearly, meaning somebody else filled it out for him), he’s a little surprised. To Levi’s knowledge, he hasn’t been to the Urgent Care since that time several weeks ago, when he gave Dr. Brzenska the photos for Levi and said he would start going somewhere else.

He’d clearly held true to that promise.

When he enters Room 3, it’s to find Eren bickering with a rather lovely young lady Levi has never seen before. Because even when Eren had torn up his leg falling from a tree, he’d made it there all on his own.

“—seriously, I’m fine. They bandaged it, I’m good, we can go now.”

“Why are you being this way? Just let the doctor look at it.”

“He doesn’t need to. I’m fine. Great. I could have just slapped a bandaid on at home, I would have been fine.”

“You sliced your hand open! And the only reason we aren’t at the ER is because you _refuse_ to go there, and the other Urgent Care clinic is clear across town.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Levi cuts in when neither of them have noticed his presence, and they both snap to look at him in sync. It’s a little comical.

Aside from the fact that Eren looks miserable to see him. Like a petulant child, cradling a bandaged hand against his chest as if he can make it invisible, face torn between pouting or gritting his teeth with frustration.

“Eren,” Levi greets, and is surprised how the simple utterance of his name can make him go stock still. “Long time no see.”

“Are you really here that much?” The woman hisses, sounding angry, and Eren shrugs noncommittally.

“So what have you done to yourself this time?” Levi asks, putting on his trusty gloves, and there’s that weird feeling again. Almost like Levi has gone back in time. Because it’s been a long time since he’s seen Eren up on that examination table, stripped of his protective outer layers. These days, Eren is soft smiles in pre-dawn light and ridiculous beanies pulled over his ears and exuberant explanations about the bird he took a picture of that afternoon and why it was so beautiful.

And Levi realizes, in that moment, that it’s been quite some time since he’s seen Eren as his patient.

“He broke a vase, insisted on cleaning it up, sliced up his hand in the process,” the woman explains for Eren.

“ _Mikasa_ ,” he scolds her, like he’s ashamed of it, and Eren just nods to himself.

“Well, that’s nowhere near as bad as falling out of a tree, so we should have him out of here in no time.” Levi presses his lips together to fight the urge to smile, especially at the horrified look that overtakes Eren’s face as “Mikasa” descends upon him.

“You _fell out of a tree?_ ” She demands, and Eren shoots Levi a look that is simply screaming for help.

“We’ll need to get an x-ray of your hand, see if there’s any glass we’ll need to extract,” Levi explains. “Your girlfriend is welcome to accompany you.”

Levi doesn’t believe he’s ever seen Eren look so completely mortified.

“She’s my _sister_ ,” Eren explains, his voice raspy with his embarrassment, and Levi just nods. Well, it was girlfriend or sister, and girlfriend seemed like the more humiliating option to go with.

Not to mention it makes sense, even if it doesn’t in the scope of Eren attempting to ask Levi out. The again, it’s been quite some time since he’s done that.

Maybe he’s given it up.

Maybe their weird ritual of seeing each other for ten minutes several times a week at 5am is just some strange attempt at friendship.

There’s a weird ache in Levi’s stomach, and he wonders if the leftovers he had for dinner aren’t sitting right with him.

Eren’s sister goes with him to get his hand x-rayed. There are a few pieces of glass in the cut that Levi carefully removes as Eren and his sister bicker and Levi has the wistful thought of wishing he didn’t have to wear gloves as he holds Eren’s hand and stitches it back together.

There’s a moment, when Eren’s fingers curl slightly over his, and Levi has to pause in his work so he doesn’t make a mistake.

*

Seven hours later, Eren is waiting for him, hand bandaged and ridiculous hat in place.

“Sorry,” is the first thing he says, and Levi wonders if it’s because he doesn’t have tea with him. “I told Mikasa I was fine, but I mean, okay, I was bleeding pretty profusely for a minute there—”

“You literally had glass in your hand,” Levi deadpans. “You needed medical attention. Why are you apologizing?”

Eren squirms, sticking his hands in his pockets, extracting them, and then putting them in different pockets.

“Because I’m not your patient anymore?” He ducks his head, looking at Levi with a bashful smile, and Levi sighs.

“Still on that, huh?” Levi asks, rubbing at his chest due to the sudden discomfort he feels there. “Then why do you refuse to go to the ER?”

It’s a prying question, but the comment had stuck with Levi.

Eren laughs up at the night sky. “Sorry, but you have to be at least level five to unlock my tragic backstory,” he jokes, but there’s a tension in his shoulders that tells Levi that, whatever the reason is, he’s not about to share it. It’s a strange sensation, running into a roadblock with Eren when he’s been such an open book in the past.

“What level am I then?” Levi asks, starting to walk towards his car, and Eren falls into step beside him.

“Oh…” Eren hums contemplatively. “I’d say you’re nearly there.”

_Have you ever considered actually trying to get to know me?_

And Levi wonders when it started happening without him even realizing it.

“You’re a fucking shithead,” he says, and Eren’s laugh is surprised.

“ _What?_ ” He gasps, but Levi doesn’t even explain. Doesn’t know how to explain. He wonders if it was even a conscious effort on Eren’s part, or if he knew the fastest, easiest way to make himself a part of Levi’s life, to was… Well. Make himself a part of it. He’d established a place for himself in Levi’s life by fucking force of will, and Levi had just let it happen.

“I like thunder,” Levi volunteers without prompting, and Eren misses a step and nearly faceplants on the concrete.

“Huh?”

“I like looking at rain, but not being in it.” Levi looks away, rubs his hands together to keep his fingers warm. “Sunrises, teacups, clean sheets, crisp lines.” Shit. This is harder than he thought. Levi _knows_ what he likes, but it’s one thing to just know and another to try and explain it to somebody else.

“Why are you telling me this?” Eren asks, his voice quiet, like there’s some spell cast here and he might break it. Like there’s magic at work that’s making Levi reveal pieces of himself this way, and that just makes him feel more like an asshole.

“You asked,” Levi explains, because Eren has. Many times. And Levi has never once answered him. But now he is. Eren smiles at him.

“I hope I remember all of that,” Eren murmurs to himself, and it’s only then that Levi realizes that Eren is missing a rather important component.

“Where’s your bike?”

“Oh.” Eren shrugs. “I walked.”

“Is that a ploy to get a ride home?” Levi asks dryly, shooting him a withering look, and Eren doesn’t even look a little ashamed at getting caught. “Get in. I can’t exactly leave you here to freeze. Your sister might kill me.”

Eren groans again.

“That would make both of us,” Eren responds as he clambers into the car. “You had to mention the tree thing, didn’t you?”

“I just wanted her to know I’m competent at what I do,” Levi says arily.

“You’re a doctor. I’m pretty sure that says enough,” Eren huffs, sinking in his seat and crossing his arms, and Levi drives. Eren doesn’t give directions, and Levi doesn’t ask. Left at that street, veer right on that one… He’s only driven Eren home two or three times in the past, but he remembers the way. He has an unfailing sense of direction, after all, at least as far as getting from place to place. Direction in his career is a little tricker.

Direction in personal relationships don’t exist at all for him.

“I didn’t bring you tea,” Eren remarks suddenly when the flickering street light is in view, as if he just now remembered.

“I didn’t, nor have I ever, asked you to,” Levi reminds him. “...but thank you,” he tacks on as an afterthought. There have been many days where he’s reached the point of denouncing being a doctor altogether, throwing away all the years of school and money and time and energy and _life_ , when those cups of tea have helped soothe over his frayed nerves.

“You didn’t have to ask. I wanted to,” Eren murmurs in response, sounding distracted. “I have tea in my apartment,” he says a moment later.

Levi puts the car in park.

“Did you honestly just invite me up to your apartment?” Levi gives Eren a tired look, which is easier than usual, considering he’s fairly exhausted already.

“N-not like that, just. For tea. To drink tea.” Eren’s eyes are wide, and Levi almost believes that Eren isn’t the sort to have hidden motives or plots. Like maybe his wheedling into Levi’s life, under his skin and into his lungs, had been some sort of happy accident.

Unlikely.

Levi stares at Eren, and Eren stares back, and Levi cuts the engine and sighs.

“I’m going to regret this,” he says out loud, and Eren chuckles.

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

And, true to Eren’s words, all they do is drink tea. It turns out the camomile is just as amazing out of a mug in the cozy warmth of an unfamiliar apartment. Then again, it might just be the boy who made it and the way he smiles as he places the cup in Levi’s hands.

**Author's Note:**

> [read, reblog, & like on tumblr](http://missmichellebelle.tumblr.com/post/131757952155/acute-myocardial-infarction)!


End file.
